


And Then the Phone Rings

by Sophrosune (polishmyarmor)



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polishmyarmor/pseuds/Sophrosune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carol and Liz keep getting interrupted. (Takes place after Season 4)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then the Phone Rings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anythingbutblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutblue/gifts).



There was a knock at Liz’s apartment door. As she peeked through the eyehole, she quickly threw off her Snuggie and tossed it behind her sofa.

Opening the door, she said, “Hi, Carol!”

“Hello, Liz,” he said, coming inside, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything—I know those sketches don’t write themselves.”

Liz’s heart swelled a bit in her chest at that—finally, someone who understood! “No, no, we’re on break!”

“Great!” Carol sat down on the sofa, and as Liz moved to sit next to him, the phone rang.

“Sorry, let me just get this, it should only take a second.”

“Liz here”

“God, must you answer your phone like that?”

“Hello, Wesley. What do you need?” Liz’s tone was cold.

“I’m having a small gathering of friends and I thought you must be lonely—on break, all of your work friends away with their spouses and lovers—“

“Eurgh, don’t use that word!”

“Fine, their life partners,” Liz rolled her eyes at this, but let him continue, “anyhow, you’re probably alone. We’re having a wine and cheese party, and I know how you love those Scottish wines, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“No, Wesley, I will not attend your Scottish wine and cheese party!”

”I’ve never known you to turn down free cheese, Liz.”

“Yes, okay, that’s true, but you've never really known me. I’ve found love now. LOVE! He flies planes and his forearms make Gaston’s look like toothpicks, and it’s wonderful! You are not going to change my mind simply by offering me some wine of the Highlands.”

“Liz Lemon! You’ll regret this!” With that, Wesley hung up the phone. Liz pulled the phone away from her ear, startled and bemused. It was rare that she ever made a man jealous, and she was a little drunk with power.

“Who was that?” Carol walked over to where Liz stood, staring at her phone, and Liz smiled to herself that he understood personal space (he was a good three feet away).

“Wesley Snipes.”

“Oh, man, I loved him in…what was it?”

“White Men Can’t Jump?”

“Yes! Basketball hustling doesn’t see skin color, man, it’s beautiful.”

“I know! But it wasn’t that Wesley Snipes…you met him, at the wedding.” Liz smiled and moved closer to Carol.

“You mean, your ex-fiancé?”

“Yeah, no, well—it’s kind of a long story.”

“You were settling soul mates, weren’t you.”

“How did you know?”

“Let’s just say, if you ever run into Rosie Perez, go the other way.”

“You were engaged to Rosie Perez?” Liz exclaimed.

“Not that one—she was Dutch and she just—let’s just say that our senses of humor were really different. She couldn’t see what was so funny about Fraggle Rock, and that was a deal breaker.”

“I love that you quote me to me,” Liz said with a satisfied smile. As she leaned towards him, the phone rang again. “I’m so sorry, this never happens!”

“You never get called?” Carol asked, concerned.

“Yes, no, I just…Hi, Liz here.”

“Lemon, it’s Jack.”

“Jack? What are you doing calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be vacationing with Avery?” As Liz started talking, Carol walked into the kitchen.

“Yes, but the Hot Box won’t run itself; she’s checking in with work.”

“So, what’s up?”

“As you know, Kabletown has taken over NBC. They’ve decided to boost revenue by incorporating products into scenes.”

“Don’t we already do that? How many times can we talk about the natural goodness of Snapple?”

“No, Lemon, they want more products in the background—the implied endorsement.”

Liz sighed, picking up a bag of Cheetos and adjusting the remote to her new Sony flatscreen. “Don’t you think that’s selling out?”

“You’ve already sold out Liz—you don’t win Follower of the Year for nothing. This isn’t about artistic integrity; it’s about earning enough to stay on the air.”

“Right. Right. Okay.”

“Avery’s back—thank God we went while she still had her insane bikini body. You should see the way the sunlight glistens off of her—she looks like a shapely blonde bar of Fox-endorsed gold, it’s amazing. Last night in bed she did this thing that I never would have thought possible; she--”

“Okay, gotta go Jack! Bye!”

With that, Liz hung up the phone as quickly as she could. Carol came in as she hung up, holding a plate of ham. Liz had to stop her eyes from tearing up with joy.

“I made us a snack, I hope that’s alright,” Carol said with a smile.

“That’s great,” Liz gushed.

Carol and Liz sat on the couch, a safe distance apart, knees angled towards each other.

“I’m glad you stopped by.”

“Me too! It gave me a chance to spy on your fridge, make sure you’re not some secret health nut who’ll make me do Bikram yoga.”

“Oh, I’m too competitive for yoga.”

“Yeah—one time I had to stop myself from growling at a guy whose downward-facing dog was better than mine.”

Liz smiled and reached for some ham. Carol checked his watch.

“Do you have to get somewhere?” Liz asked, worried that she had already scared him away. Had he seen her scary back mole when she sat down? Noticed that while her fridge had no health nut food it also contained nothing that would expire before 2015? Had he SEEN HER TOES? Liz panicked at the thought that there might be a hole in her sock, and as she was about to check, the phone rang.

“No, I just—“Carol paused as the second ring interrupted him, “it’s okay if you need to get that.”

“Sorry,” Liz said, “Liz.” What she really wanted to say was phlurg.

“Liz, it’s Jenna. Actor emergency.”

“What now, Jenna? Did someone confuse you for Vanessa Redgrave again?”

“No, no—there’s a Japanese company that wants me to star in a male growth hormone ad.”

“And you’re wondering whether or not to do it?” Liz was hopeful here, too hopeful.

“No, silly, of course I’m going to do it—what I need to know is this: should I get my hair extensions now, or should I wait until I get there and risk getting pre-used hair? I can’t have old hair on my head, not when I’m only twenty-nine.”

“Listen, this can wait, right? We can talk about this later?”

“No, Liz. This is about my future, don’t you care about my future?!” Jenna’s voice had entered shrill panic mode now.

“Of course I do—oh, other line, gotta go.” And with that Liz hung up.

“What was that about?” Carol asked as Liz placed the Sony cordless home phone V6.27 back on its base.

“Actor emergency—I’m sorry this has been so crazy—usually when we go on break, I at least get a few days before the crazy emerges. Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, just that we’ve got at least ten more minutes until Contessa’s on. You watch that, right?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Liz tried to shrug in an offhand sort of way (so, a half-shimmy).

“Nobody can melt butter like she can…” Carol smiled.

“Except Paula Deen,” they said together.

The phone rang.

“I’ll just ignore that,” Liz said, waving a hand at the receiver.

The phone rang four times, then went to the answering machine. There, a southern voice blared out across the room.

“Ms. Lemon, it’s Kenneth. Normally I wouldn’t bother you at home, but I can’t reach Mr. Jordan, and I need to find out where he is—he just left a message saying that he was ‘chillin’ with Dot Com, cheerin’ him up.’ But he didn’t say where and he needs his corns taken care of! Please--I’m just so worried!”

Liz looked at Carol, who said, “go ahead, this sounds important—no one can play Fart Doctor like Tracy.”

“Fine…” Liz picked up the phone, “I’m here Kenneth. I don’t know where Tracy is but…hold on, there’s someone on the other line…hello?”

“Liz Lemon, it’s Tracy Jordan. Why isn’t Kenneth here? He hasn’t been following me around today. And my feet hurt. I think that aliens are shrinking my shoes again.”

“No, Tracy. And, Kenneth is on the other line—why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I must have left it at the zoo when I went to feed those lions.”

Liz rolled her eyes (almost audibly). “Where are you now, Tracy?”

“I’m at Dot Com’s apartment—he’s about to recite some of his poetry, Liz Lemon. Poetry—he’s not even going to try to pretend he’s rapping!”

“Look, I’m sending Kenneth over now, and then I don’t want either of you to call me until we’re back to work. Got it?”

“Whatever you say, Liz Lemon. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Liz sighed.

“Kenneth, are you still there?”

“Yes, Ms. Lemon, I’m here.”

“Tracy’s at Dot Com’s—you should hurry before Dot Com lulls him to sleep with his poetry.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you Ms. Lemon! Bye-bye!”

Liz hung up the phone.

“I think I’ll just turn this off.” Liz turned off her phone. “So, Contessa?”

And with that, Liz and Carol moved a few inches closer to each other on the couch, and turned on the Sony Flatscreen to watch the Barefoot Contessa. The Food Network had brought a happy couple together once again.


End file.
